


Happy Accidents & Twists of Fate

by opalheart12



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Gideon Pops Up from Time to Time, Meet-Cute, Occasional Ripping Out of Souls, Romance, Your Heart Will Be Both Warmed and Shredded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalheart12/pseuds/opalheart12
Summary: She was a woman on a bike. She ran him over. But she was a really sweet woman on a bike. So, Spencer doesn’t hesitate to give him her number when she asks. Unfortunately, the monsters in his line of work make starting a relationship more difficult than it needs to be. How will Spencer and Astraea navigate dodging an obsessed serial killer AND going on dates at the same time?





	1. The Happy Accident

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic for Criminal Minds I’ve ever written! Any reviews are appreciated.

His usual morning routine was broken today. 

 

Every morning at precisely 7:30 am, Spencer Reid stopped at the Ortus Coffee Shop and Café for a large vanilla latte with a double shot of espresso and a cheese danish before heading into his office. At around 7:45 am, he was leaving the shop to get on the subway. The stop he arrived at was only two blocks from his job at the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and he usually was at his desk at precisely 8:15 am with exactly 45 minutes to spare before his workday officially began at 9 am. He would spend his time before work reading new medical or physics journals, watching old episodes of Doctor Who, or reading some book he’d had in his desk for weeks. 

 

But not this morning.

 

It really was his fault, if he was being honest. He’d gotten distracted. And it was  _ hard _ for him to get distracted. But he’d made the very stupid decision of not paying attention as he crossed the trail in the park and got hit by a woman on a bike. He’d fallen instantly, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. His legs and knees felt sore and he was pretty certain his tailbone would be bothering him for at least a week. 

 

“Oh fuck! Shit! Fucking  _ fuck _ !” The woman yelled as she got up from where she too had tumbled to the ground. She rushed over and knelt down next to him. “Ohmygod I’m so sorry! I tried to stop and call you but you weren’t responding so I thought maybe you were deaf or something but I tried to call out to you I swear!” 

 

Spencer groaned as he rolled over. He was definitely going to be late to work today. He blinked as the sun blinded him slightly but noticed the woman standing over him looked ready to cry. He sat up with another groan and she moved away slightly. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It was my fault. I don’t really notice my surroundings in the morning when I’m focused.” He could see her more clearly now. 

 

The woman before him was wearing black yoga pants and a shirt the color of a lemon. Spencer liked lemons. The sun made her warm brown skin and hazel eyes glow brilliantly and he felt his mouth go dry just looking at her. Her thick curly hair was tied up with a scarf that matched her shirt in what resembled the shape of a pineapple. She was wearing large silver hoop earring that glinted every time they caught the sunlight.

 

“God, I’m so sorry! Is there anything I can do?! Can you walk?!” The tears were still in her eyes waiting to fall any minute. Spencer got the feeling she got overwhelmed fairly easily. “I can take you to urgent care and I’ll even pay for it myself! If you need to call the police and report--”

 

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing to report. It was an accident that was my fault. A very  _ painful _ accident,” Spencer interjected. It got a watery laugh from her. He liked her smile, he realized. It was wide and bright just like the sun. “But it was  _ my _ fault, not yours.” 

 

The woman didn’t look like she believed him but she tugged at her bottom lip and sighed anyway. She had a few scrapes and her knees felt like they were on fire, but it wasn’t anything she didn’t think could be fixed with peroxide and Neosporin. “Okay,” she replied, her voice uncertain. “If you say so.”

 

Spencer held his hand out to her and she took it tentatively. “Dr. Spencer Reid.”

 

Her eyes widened almost comically. “Doctor? I guess that means you know exactly how bad I hurt you then.” She laughed and it sounded like the most beautiful sound Spencer had ever heard. He wanted to make her laugh again. 

 

“Not  _ that _ kind of doctor.” 

 

She smiled again and he felt one tugging at the corners of his mouth too. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Reid. I’m Astraea King. My friends call me A.D. though.”

 

Astraea. The star-maiden. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Astraea.”

 

She stood, wincing as she did so, and reached down to help him up. “Do you need help getting to where you’re going? I can call an Uber or something if it hurts too much to walk.” 

 

“I’m fine, really. Sore, but I’m fine.”

 

She nodded to herself and picked her bike up. It didn’t appear to be damaged by her collision with Spencer. “Listen, I...I don’t want to sound weird asking this but...is it alright if I get your number? You know, just to check in on you?”

 

“Sure!” He attempted to squash the overexcitement from his voice. He felt as if he was having a slightly out of body experience as he nodded and took her phone from her to type in his number. During their very short interaction, Spencer realized that he wanted to know this woman better. Whatever that meant. Whether it was friendship or something...else.

 

“See you around, Dr. Reid.” She gave him one last smile and pedaled away on her bike. 

 

And that was how he came to be 30 minutes late arriving to work, hastily making it to his desk at close to 8:50 am. If his coworkers came in at exactly 9 am and noticed the red tinge to his face they didn’t comment on it. For that, Spencer was grateful.


	2. I Hate Mississippi

“I _hate_ Mississippi.”

 

It had been unspeakably hot and humid when the team had been called to Marshall County, Mississippi to investigate four grisly murders involving people being stuffed into the fireplaces of their homes. They’d been there almost a week and, truth be told, the heat and polite bigotry weren’t really agreeing with Spencer.

 

“Reid, I don’t think even you could find someone in the world that legitimately loves this place,” Emily replied dryly before draining her coffee that tasted very much like she imagined dishwater would. “But until we find the unsub we’re stuck here.”

 

“Ya’ll really never experienced a little heat before?” Morgan asked with a chuckle. “When I was a kid, my mother shipped me down to South Carolina every summer to be with my dad’s side of the family. That sun was unforgivable, but we made the most of it! Lot of swimming in the creek behind my grandma’s house and ice cold lemonade from her neighbor, Mrs. Davis. Man...I loved it. This reminds me of all that.”

 

It was kind of hard to nourish the hate in his heart for the weather when Derek put it that way. Spencer was from Las Vegas for fuck’s sake. Heat should be the one thing he had more experience with than anyone else on the team. But Las Vegas heat didn’t feel like walking into a wet blanket every time you stepped outside.

 

They were all sitting in a conference room at the local police department. The air went out at least once a day but usually between noon and late afternoon when they were, thankfully, back at their hotel or out investigating. It was nearly 10 am and already it was 89 degrees with the humidity making it feel like 94. They’d all eaten breakfast and were presently regrouping when Hotch walked in with Sheriff Anderson.

 

“Break’s over.” Emily muttered. She scarfed down the cup of coffee she’d just poured for herself, barely wincing at how hot it still was.

 

“There’s been another murder. This time, in Slayden. It’s a short ride but we’ll need to get over there now while the scene’s still fresh.” Hotch relayed, as serious as he always was.

 

“Fresh?”

 

“The victim was murdered less than six hours ago.”

 

They quickly packed their things and rushed out to their SUVs at that. The ride over was, as Hotch predicted, short. The clouds that had begun to roll in were helping to keep the sun at bay but the humidity was only getting worse. When they arrived, police were interviewing witnesses and investigating the perimeter of the house.

 

“I told my men not to go inside,” Sheriff Anderson said as they all stood on the porch of an otherwise unassuming home. “Didn’t want anythin’ gettin’ messed up before ya’ll take a look.”

 

“Thank you, Sheriff. We’ll let you know what we find.” Hotch replied. The sheriff gave them all a nod and went to check on his deputies. Hotch then turned to the team. “Reid, Morgan, and Prentiss, check out the crime scene. JJ, Rossi, and I will check out the rest of the house.”

 

The inside of the house was beautifully quaint. There were pictures of the victim and her husband on the walls along with copious pictures of grandchildren. The furniture looked as if had been in the house for at least twenty years and there was no sign of a TV or any other electronics. There were, however, bookshelves taking up every square inch of wall that wasn’t occupied by pictures or quilts.

 

“Jesus Christ.” Morgan muttered, wincing at the scene before them. The fireplace was fairly large and took up the other side of the living room. Inside it was the curled up form of what had once been Mae-Marie Jenkins. Were it not for her wedding ring and the remnants of the nightgown she’d been wearing, Mae-Marie would have been unrecognizable.

 

“How the hell did all this happen just six hours ago?” Emily asked. “There’s no way a regular fire would have burned her this badly. I mean, she lived here alone. Wouldn’t one of her neighbors have noticed the smell? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

 

Reid came to stand next to Emily and looked over the woman’s body. Some of the burns looked older than a few hours. “It’s possible she was burned before she died and the unsub stuffed her in here to light her on fire again.”

 

“But someone would have heard that even with the space between the houses here. So, either everyone in this neighborhood sleeps like a rock or--”

 

“Or the unsub kidnapped her, took her somewhere else, and burned her alive before bringing her back home to burn her again in her own fireplace.” Reid finished. He felt sick just thinking about it. From the pictures on the wall, the victim seemed like a sweet old woman who wouldn’t harm a fly. He couldn’t imagine what kind of person would do something like this.

 

“Overkill,” Emily inserted. “But why? He shot the other victims first then burned them after they died. But he kidnaps Mae-Marie, burns her alive, and brings her back to burn her again. She’s gotta mean something to him to go through all that trouble.”

 

“And if the neighbors didn’t hear anything then she must have known or been familiar with the unsub.” Derek added. “So, we need to look into any family or friends she had that may still live in the area. Probably in their forties or fifties given how much strength it would take to haul bodies around. Maybe someone had a grudge against her.”

 

Just then, Hotch, JJ, and Rossi came into the room, all three giving a cursory glance at the body of Mae-Marie before facing the others. “Witnesses reported seeing a late model tan pickup truck last night around 8 pm. A few said Mae-Marie’s lights were on inside so they assumed a family member had stopped by.” JJ explained.

 

“None of them had ever seen the truck before?” Reid asked. He suddenly felt his phone buzz in his pocket. “This is a small town and an even smaller neighborhood. Doesn’t everyone know each other?”

 

“Well, the neighbor across the street says her son Everett was big in oil and had a truck like that but he died over a year ago from a heart attack.” Rossi said.

 

Spencer’s phone buzzed again before ringing and this time he took it out to see who on earth was trying to talk to him. The first thing he noticed was that Garcia was calling. The second thing he noticed was the text message icon at the top of his screen. Deciding he was capable of multitasking, he put Garcia on speakerphone while he went to see who had texted him.

 

“Greetings, foolish mortals. I have some good news and some weird news.”

 

Derek smiled. “You know I hate waiting, baby girl. Tell us what you got.”

 

“Right. So, I did a little background on our dearly departed sweet old lady. Mae-Marie Alcott, born in 1936 in Jackson, Mississippi but moved to Holly Springs with mom when she was was three after her father died in a factory accident. Mom dies when Mae-Marie is fourteen and some neighbors take care of her until she graduates and immediately marries Hudson Jenkins and gives birth to twins Brady and Barbara the following year and Everett the year after that. Now, here’s where things get odd. Hud and Mae-Marie had their son Everett institutionalized when he was just eleven for being a, get ready for it, homosexual. When that didn’t work out, it was conversion camp in west Texas called New Horizons where he stayed until he aged out at eighteen.” As usual, Garcia had the uncanny ability to deliver vast amounts of information in a short space of time, sounding as if she were attempting to get all her words out while they were still in her head.

 

Spencer saw an unfamiliar number in his messages and clicked it. A.D. had messaged him.

 

**(202)555 0000: _Dr. Reid! Just checking to make sure you’re still alive. Feeling better?_**

 

He felt a small smile tug at his face as he closed out the messages and tried to focus on what Garcia was saying. He could respond to A.D. later but for now, there was a case to solve. “What happened after he aged out?”

 

“Mae-Marie and Hudson took him back in, it seems. Paid for his college at Ole Miss where he majored in biology and met his first wife, Deborah Waller. They got married after graduating and went on to have five kids but it doesn’t seem like things were going particularly well because they divorced before the fifth child was even born. After that, he moved to New York City where he lived until five years ago. He moved to Memphis to be with his brother, Brady, who was dying from leukemia at the time but made regular visits to Holly Springs to see Mae-Marie even though, by all accounts, they were not on the greatest of terms.”

 

“Why would Everett make visits to the woman who helped make his life a living hell if they didn’t get along? Garcia, is there an actual death certificate for Everett?” Rossi asked curiously.

 

“That’s the other weird part: there isn’t one.”

 

Spencer felt the proverbial wheels in his head turning and frowned slightly as he asked, “Garcia, what about a marriage license dated around a year and a half ago?”

 

“Wonderboy, you stole my thunder. Everett Jenkins married one Ronald Steinbeck almost exactly a year and a half ago.”

 

“Right around the time Mae-Marie started telling her neighbors that he died.” Prentiss said. “She disowned him.”

 

The team paused and looked again at the body now being pulled out of the fireplace by the coroner and put into a body bag. They might have all been sickened to know how she died but it complicated things to know how she’d treated her own child.

 

“But what do the other victims have to do with this?” JJ asked. “The overkill was for the mom but what about the others? Why kill them?”

 

“Here’s the good news: there _is_ a link between all four of the previous victims and Everett Jenkins. When Everett was still in elementary school, right before his parents sent him away, there was a parade to celebrate the town’s founding and Everett was all set to be on one of the floats but then...uh…”

 

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asked impatiently.

 

When Garcia spoke again, her voice was softer and had lost the earlier excitement of revealing to them the information they’d needed. “Sir, they tarred and feathered him. The town newspaper wrote about it like it was just some harmless prank but--”

 

“But it wasn’t. Not to him.” Spencer interjected. Unbidden memories of his own experiences with pranks that had been funny to everyone except him sprung to his mind and he had to take a deep breath to will them away. “So Hammond Fisher, Tyler Moore, Evelyn Springer, and Catherine Hyatt were the people who humiliated him. His mother institutionalized him. Who else would there be for him to kill?”

 

“Ok, so I had to do some SERIOUS digging after asking myself that very same question and I arrived at Everett’s old college roommate, David Dawes. Dawes requested a roommate change his junior year citing that he had suspicions Everett might be gay. But twenty years later, David came out to and was disowned by his own family. So, what I’m thinking is maybe David and Everett were romantically linked and David rejected him.” Garcia replied.

 

They all processed the massive amount of information Garcia had just presented them with. From the looks of things, Everett Jenkins was their unsub. But they were still in the dark about why he’d even decided to start killing in the first place. Spencer was beginning to form a theory and decided to test it. “Garcia, is Everett’s husband still alive?”

 

There was a pause as the team waited for her response. Spencer was certain he would need to make an appointment with his therapist after this case. It was bringing up too many old memories for him. The others, for their part, looked equal parts disturbed, sickened, and saddened by all they’d just heard.

 

“Ronald Steinbeck died last month suddenly from a heart attack. Everett was out of town that weekend visiting his sister Barbara and he was the one who...oh God. He was the one who found Ronald but the coroner said he’d been dead for at least three days when Everett found him.”

 

Hotch nodded in understanding. “That’s our stressor. Garcia, text me David Dawes’s current address.”

 

As it happened, Everett Jenkins had been about to shoot David Dawes when the team burst onto the scene. He’d dropped his gun immediately and didn’t say a single word as they arrested him and brought him back to the station. He gave them his confession without delay and admitted to being involved in the murders. The team had looked on with general sadness as the sheriff escorted him to the holding cells where he would have to wait out the weekend to be formally charged before a judge.

 

Later that evening, they were up in the air on their way back to Washington DC when Spencer remembered the text he’d received earlier in the day from Astraea. He smiled again as he reread it and typed his response.

 

**Spencer: _All better, thank you for asking. Sorry for the late response, I was working a case._**

 

**Astraea: _A case?_**

 

**Spencer: _Yes. It was actually pretty shitty._**

 

**Astraea: _I will take your word for it. What exactly do you do?_**

 

**Spencer: _I’ll have to tell you sometime._**

 

**Astraea: _Can that time be Sunday evening for dinner?_**

 

Was she asking him out? Spencer stared at his phone wondering what he should say. Was it too soon to go on a date with the woman who’d bowled him over with her bike just last week? They didn’t know each other. But weren’t dates meant to get to know a person?

 

“You’re taking way longer than you need to to respond.” Emily, who he’d thought was asleep, blinked blearily and yawned before turning to face him. “Simple yes or no will suffice.”

 

Spencer frowned. “How did you know--”

  
“Your font is fucking huge, Reid. Shrink it. And plane rides are boring you and your girlfriend are giving me free entertainment.” Emily smiled ruefully at him.

 

He sighed in resignation and smiled again. Emily had a point. He _was_ taking far longer than he should have to respond. Who knew when he would get asked out by anyone again?

 

**Spencer: _Yes, it can._**

 

The rest of the ride home comprised of Spencer grinning softly to himself as he started to read a scholarly journal article he was supposed to be peer reviewing. But when he thought about Astraea and how her deep brown skin glowed in the sun and how her smile made his mouth go dry he couldn’t concentrate to save his life.


	3. I Always Get Nervous

It was weird for Spencer to have something to look forward to that didn’t involve work or visiting his mother. When the team got back to DC, Hotch gave them the rest of the weekend off, saying they would only be called in if it was an absolute emergency. The trouble now was figuring out what to do with his time. He felt like he was buzzing with nervous energy and had no idea what to do with it. 

 

He hadn’t been on a date since Maeve and, while he had mostly moved on in his grief of her, going on a date with someone that wasn’t her felt a little like cheating. Maeve had died, and they hadn’t even had the chance to touch each other. Spencer found himself wondering if what they shared was even a relationship at all. 

 

“Of course it was, Spencer. You  _ loved _ her.” 

 

Spencer blinked, not realizing he’d voiced his thoughts aloud, and tried to pull himself back to pay attention to his therapist. The therapist in question was FBI mandated which ordinarily would have made him defensive, but Dr. Hannah Jones was different. She never pushed him to speak. There had been entire sessions where they’d sat in total silence in the beginning, Dr. Jones scribbling notes and making scarily accurate observations all the same. 

 

“But did I? I mean, for fuck’s sake we communicated through  _ letters _ and weekly calls at payphones. We never even had a first date!” He ran his hand through his hair as his heart began to feel like it weighed more than was normal. He didn’t think of Maeve every second of every day the way he used to but when he did think of her the grief was crippling. The weight of her absence was so glaring at times. 

 

“None of those things minimize or invalidate what you felt for each other, Spencer. Don’t you think that does a disservice to her memory?” Dr. Jones asked.

 

“I guess. I just...I think I might be terrified of starting a new relationship because what if I--” Spencer caught himself as his voice cracked. “I don’t think I could bare to lose anyone else like that.”

 

Dr. Jones’s expression softened as she wrote another note and looked up at him again. “Who says you have to start a new relationship at all? It’s just a date, Spencer. Something could come of it, or nothing could. There doesn’t have to be any pressure.” Her voice, as always, was gentle and level. 

 

She had a point. It wasn’t as if he was  _ marrying  _ Astraea. They had known each other for a grand total of ten minutes. Granted, they’d been texting nearly nonstop since he’d gotten back from Mississippi and had even FaceTimed once. He wanted to allow himself to feel optimistic about getting to know her without the black cloud of his past hanging over it all.

 

When Spencer got home from therapy, he decided it might make him feel better if he FaceTimed Astraea again. Maybe if he could see her he wouldn’t feel so nervous about their date on Sunday. Astraea had texted him, saying that she wouldn’t be home until around 8 pm when she got off work. To pass the time, Spencer took a shower, ordered Indian food, and decided it might be best if he cleaned his apartment. Who knew when he might have the time to do it again?

 

He sifted through his vinyl collection until he found the  _ Agents of Fortune  _ album by Blue Oyster Cult he’d bought when he was still in undergrad. His record player had collected a fine layer of dust since he’d last used it. The hectic work schedule of the BAU ensured that he hadn’t been able to play it in months. Spencer fiddled with the needle and the record until he got to the song he was looking for. 

 

When the opening notes of “Morning Final” filled his apartment, he began to dance slowly, closing his eyes as he allowed the music to carry away anxious thoughts and the case of the previous week.  He loaded dishes into the dishwasher and tried to make his kitchen look like it was used by an actual human. He changed out the sheets on his bed and started a load of laundry. Eventually, the album finished and just as Spencer was about to switch to another his phone started ringing. 

 

He was certain it would have looked comical how quickly he vaulted over his furniture to get to it. A smile spread on his face as he saw Astraea’s name come across the screen. He didn’t yet have a picture to save to her contact but he hoped that might change eventually. 

 

“Spencer! Hey!” Her hair was up in two high puffs and she was wearing hoop earrings Spencer was certain he could fit his whole hand through. Today, she was wearing what looked like highlighter on her cheeks, mascara, and clear lip gloss that drew Spencer’s eyes to her mouth. He couldn’t see her entire outfit but it looked like she was wearing a t-shirt of some sort. “I was thinking about you today! How’ve you been?”

 

He smiled a little wider and sighed as he curled up into the corner of his couch. “Stressed. Tired. Nervous.”

 

“You? Nervous? Aren’t you, like, the smartest dude on the planet? What would you be nervous about?” The light shifted and he heard her plop down on what he assumed was her bed.

 

“I guess I always get nervous when I have a date with a beautiful woman coming up.” He wondered as the last of the words escaped his mouth if maybe he was being too forward.

 

But his fears melted away when she laughed slightly. “You know, I get a little nervous too when I have dates with hot nerds. Who knew we had so much in common?”

 

Talking with Astraea was easy for Spencer. Something about her seemed to make him feel unafraid of himself and more able to concentrate on the moment he was in rather than what had come before it or what might come after. The next few hours flew by as they talked about everything their minds jumped to.

 

“Martha Jones is a seriously underrated companion. And the 11th Doctor really isn’t as great as people think.” She said when they got into a rather spirited discussion about Doctor Who. 

 

“Blasphemy! And I’ll have you know that Donna Noble is in fact the most seriously underrated companion. And Captain Jack Harkness.”

 

“Harkness doesn’t even count, Reid. The man was off on his own show! But I  _ can _ see an argument that could be made about Donna.” Astraea replied.

 

“Do you have a favorite episode?” Spencer asked, eager to hear her answer. 

 

Astraea shrugged and hummed as she thought about her answer. Then, “I think Journey’s End was my favorite. Seeing all the companions come back together and save the whole universe was just so amazing, you know?”

 

Spencer nodded appreciatively. “Solid choice, A.D. I think mine might be Silence in the Library. God, that one was creepy as hell. I love creepy shit.” 

 

“I had that feeling about you, Reid.”

 

There was a comfortable silence on both ends as they sat there thinking of the other’s words. Eventually, Spencer decided to break the quiet. “So...why do your friends call you A.D?”

 

Her smile faded slightly and she began to tug on to her bottom with her teeth. “My middle name is Dion. My dad’s name was Astor Douglas King and he’d always wanted a son but it never worked out for him and my mom. It was just me and my sister Aquila.”

 

“Your family loves their astronomy.” Spencer commented.

 

“It’s funny you say that. My mom studied Astronomy at MIT and she met my dad in the library. He was going to Harvard at the time studying literature. When she heard his name was Astor she took it as a sign from the universe that they should be together. They had my sister the next year.”

 

The story made him feel warm inside. Astraea spoke of her family lovingly and hearing her explain how she’d gotten her name made him feel like he knew her better. 

 

“So how did A.D end up being what people call you?” He asked.

 

“My parents didn’t know what they were having when my mom got pregnant with me. They decided to just be surprised and let me figure things out for myself. They called me A.D just in case I ended up realizing I was trans. Can’t say I know a lot of Black parents who would’ve done that and they certainly caught hell for it but giving me that freedom to decide was everything to me. My dad kept hoping one day I would realize I wanted to be called Astor Douglas Jr. but it never happened. He didn’t have the heart to stop calling me A.D so I let him. I’m like his little junior anyway.” Astraea smiled as she told the story and Spencer realized he wanted to see her smile all the time.

 

“That’s amazing. Your parents sound like phenomenal people.” The album he’d forgotten to change was playing again but he didn’t feel the urge to get up and switch it. The music calmed him and made him feel like melting into his sofa.

 

“They are some pretty amazing people. My sister too. She lives all the way in South Korea now though. She’s teaching English to all the little youths of tomorrow. “

 

He couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow, Spencer realized. He wondered where they might go and what they might do. She hadn’t told him just yet. Surprises were not his favorite thing in the world. Spencer preferred to  _ not  _ have curve balls thrown at him. But with Astraea he didn’t much mind that.

 

“Listen, Spencer, I gotta go. I’ll text you tomorrow with where to meet. See you then?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, of course! See you then, A.D.”


	4. The Flying Turtles

Sunday evening came without much fanfare. Spencer took his time getting dressed. He’d gotten a haircut earlier in the day, unsure if Astraea would appreciate him looking like a fifth member of the Arctic Monkeys. She had yet to tell him where exactly they were going, but had told him to dress nicely. His guess was some restaurant that probably took reservations months in advance. He’d decided on a pale gray dress shirt and dark jeans with black leather ankle boots. The night was a little cooler than usual so he took a jacket with him. Astraea would be meeting him in the park where they’d first met. 

 

He stopped off at the flower shop near the park and picked up a bouquet with red and white calla lilies before setting out for the park. The gas lamps were lit every few feet, casting a beautiful evening glow around. There were a few people strolling about, the setting sun adding to the glow from the lamps. On a bench not far from where he’d been bowled over sat Astraea. She stood up and smiled when she saw him. 

 

Spencer had never been breathless before but he was certain this must be what it felt like. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything so beautiful.  _ Except me _ , Maeve’s voice whispered in his head.  _ You haven’t forgotten me that fast, have you? _ Spencer shook his head and closed his eyes tightly for a moment to chase her voice out of his head. Maeve was in his past. He had to focus on his present now. And his present, for the moment at least, was Astraea. 

 

She was wearing a strapless wine red dress with a triangle neckline and matching heels. Her thick curly hair hung freely around her face with her usual golden hoop earrings accenting it. The dress seemed like it was made specifically for her and clung to her figure in a way Spencer was sure he would dream about later that night. The first time he’d seen her in the park, she hadn’t been wearing makeup and he’d thought she was beautiful. This time her face was made up in a way that seemed natural for her: a dusting of gold highlight, lipstick that was almost identical to the color of her dress, eyeliner, and mascara. She was a dream.

 

“You clean up nice.” Astraea commented as she walked up to him. “Are these for me?” She gestured to the flowers in Spencer’s hand. 

 

He nodded wordlessly and held them out to her, still trying to find his ability to speak. Eventually, he cleared his throat and replied, “You look beautiful. Well, you always are. Not to say that you never are. It’s just tonight you look even more beautiful than you did the last time I saw you--”

 

Astraea softly hit his head with the bouquet of flowers and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

 

He smiled back, feeling warmth rush to his face. “So, where are we going?” 

 

“Dinner first,” she said. “Then there’s this music festival here in the park and one of my friends is performing in it with his band. I hope that’s ok.” Now it was Astraea who looked nervous. “I didn’t really know what you liked and considering I asked you, I thought it might be nice--”

 

“It’s perfect.” Spencer interrupted her with a reassuring smile. She smiled back and they walked through the park until they got to a cluster of food trucks with picnic tables spread around. In the distance, Spencer could see a stage with a crowd of people sitting on blankets and chairs. 

 

Astraea led him to a food truck that was Korean barbecue fused with Mexican food. His mouth began watering immediately as he remembered he’d been too nervous to eat earlier in the day. They’d ended up ordering barbecue chicken quesadillas and kimchi nachos. After getting their drinks they headed over to a table and sat across from each other. 

 

“Alright, Dr. Reid, tell me what you do before I eat. Just in case it’s kinda gross.” Astraea said with both hands on her quesadilla.

 

He shrugged and took a bite out of his quesadilla. It was perfection. “I help catch serial killers for the FBI. Does that count as gross?”

 

She nodded appreciatively. “A G man, huh? Not as gross as I thought. You win this round, Dr. Reid.” 

 

“What about you?” 

 

“I’m a high school English teacher by day and I sing in cafes a few nights a week and on the weekends. Probably not what my parents had in mind when they sent me to Howard but they’re okay with it. They even come to my shows sometimes.” Astraea replied. 

 

Spencer nodded as he took another mouthful of his food and went for a drink of water. “And how did you end up being an English teacher?”

 

“Majored in English in college and decided I didn’t feel like going for a PhD so I got certified to teach instead. It’s tiring but I love it for the most part. The kids are amazing! They have so much more creativity and imagination than I had at their age. Now, I can’t really see myself doing anything else, you know? It’s been part of my life for so long now.”

 

“That’s how I feel about the job I have. I’ve been with the FBI almost ten years now and everytime I think about doing anything else my skin tingles unpleasantly.” Spencer said with a laugh. And it was true. Working at the BAU was everything to him. The people there were his family and, despite all the horrific things he saw in his line of work, he actually enjoyed his job. 

 

They finished their food in comfortable silence and began walking toward the stage. Spencer was enjoying the pleasant night air and walking in the golden glow of light when he felt a tap on his hand. He looked down and saw Astraea had poked him. “Is it ok if I hold your hand?” she asked. 

 

“Oh,” he breathed out, feeling the nerves creep up again. “Certainly.”

 

Astraea linked her hand into his and Spencer wondered if her hand had specifically been made to fit into his. She held his hand firmly as they walked toward the reserved section in front of the stage. They got to a patch of grass with a large blanket and a lantern sitting in the middle of it. Astraea bent down to move it off the blanket and pulled Spencer down to sit next to her. A man who didn’t look much older than either of them walked over with a basket on his arm and handed it to Astraea. 

 

“Sam told me to give this to you when you came by, Ms. King. He said all your favorite stuff is inside.” He said as he handed over the basket. 

 

Astraea smiled up at him. “Thanks, Jamie. Tell him I said break a leg.” The man nodded with a smile and left. Astraea placed the basket between she and Spencer and opened it. “Alright, let’s see what he put in here.”

 

“Sam’s your friend that’s performing?” Spencer asked as he watched her rifle through the basket. She pulled put a bottle of red wine, a container with cheese and crackers in it, and another container with cake pops. 

 

“Mhmm. We used to date back in high school until he told me one day he had a crush on our history teacher, Mr. Parker.” She stuck the wine opener into the cork of the bottle and handed it to Spencer to open. “We’ve been best friends ever since.”

 

When he successfully opened it her handed it to her and she took a long swig from it before passing it to him. He repeated her actions and then decided to try the cheese and crackers.

 

“You still friends with any of your exes?” Astraea asked as she set the bottle down. 

 

Spencer felt his bones instantly turn to lead. A soft ache began to bloom in his chest and he found himself pulling the wine bottle toward him to avoid talking. Astraea watched him carefully, her lazy smile turning into a frown as she noticed how his behavior changed. 

 

“No,” Spencer ground out. “And telling you why might put a damper on this beautiful evening. I would like to avoid that.”

 

She stared at him as she tugged on her bottom lip and then leaned forward to place her hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t wanna know the answer, Dr. Reid. You can tell me as much or as little as you want.”

 

He sighed deeply and turned to face her. He tried to ask himself what Dr. Jones would advise him to do.  _ She asked you _ , her voice said in his head.  _ It’s ok to be vulnerable _ . But to be vulnerable was to show weakness, right? Losing Maeve had taught him that. Opening up meant increased probability of getting hurt. And that was hard. He replayed Astraea’s words in his head again.  _ I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t wanna know the answer, Dr. Reid _ . She was right.

 

“Her name was Maeve,” he said slowly. It had been years since he’d said her name out loud. “She died during a case I was working on. We weren’t…” His voice trailed off and Astraea squeezed his hand encouragingly. “Let’s just say we were over before we ever had a chance to begin. But she was the first woman I ever loved. I did love her.” That last part seemed more like he was trying to convince himself. What he and Maeve had was special, different. It didn’t need to conform to what everyone else thought was normal.

 

Astraea laced her hand into his and put her other one on top of them. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you. I’m sorry you had to go through it.” 

 

Spencer shrugged helplessly and pulled his hand gently out of hers to reach for the wine bottle again. When he put it down again he smiled briefly at her. “Is it weird if I ask if you have any terribly sad or tragic ex stories? I don’t wanna be the only one.” They both laughed at that and Spencer passed the bottle to her.

 

“Just one. My last ex, Meera, went on vacation to France. She was backpacking through the Alps for months and I wasn’t able to talk to her as much. Then, she surprised me one weekend and...well, when I opened the door I saw that she was very, very pregnant. And there was a ring on her finger.” A flicker of hurt passed through Astraea’s eyes and he could’ve sworn they got misty. But just as she had done for him, Spencer squeezed her hand encouragingly. “She’d met this Swiss guy in the hostel she was staying at and...well, that was that.”

 

Spencer frowned as he rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of her hand. “Why did she come back?”

 

At this, Astraea laughed and sniffed before dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “She didn’t want me to find out about the baby on Facebook.”

 

They laughed to themselves about that and if brought Spencer up out of the heavy feelings that pressed down on him. Eventually, they drained the wine and finished the cheese and crackers. As the first few acts came on the stage, they polished off the cake pops and when all that was done Jamie came back to take the basket away.

 

By the time Astraea’s friend Sam’s band came on stage with his band, the two of them were delightfully buzzed. It turned out The Flying Turtles made music Spencer liked a lot. It was slow and calming and all instrumental with lyrics that evoked deep feelings in him. At some point, Astraea leaned over to place her head on his shoulder. Shortly after that his arm came up to wrap around hers. 

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so happy.


	5. I Thought You'd Never Ask

They’d decided to walk back to the bench where Spencer had met her earlier in the evening. It was fully night now and a few stars were visible in the sky. Astraea held his hand the whole way there and stayed close to him. His insides were buzzing with excitement. When they sat on the bench to look out into the glowing park, she kept her hand in his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

 

“Tonight was really nice,” Astraea said softly. “We should do it again sometime. If you ever want to.”

 

Spencer snorted to himself. “ _ If _ I ever want to, she says. Of course, I want to, A.D. Tonight was...I was so nervous about coming but I’m glad I did. Otherwise, I never would’ve realized that I had nothing to worry about.”

 

“I’m glad you came, Dr. Reid.” She replied. Then, belatedly, she laughed to herself. When he looked down at her curiously, she shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I just had an immature moment is all.” 

 

He laughed too and ducked his head. “Yeah, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

 

“You did.”

 

The silence stretched out between them as they watched people leave the festival. Spencer thought he might like to stay there if real life wasn’t real life. For once, his mind wasn’t racing a million thoughts a minute. He felt like he could relax, felt like he could breathe. 

 

He turned to look at Astraea and realized her face was closer to his than he’d remembered it being before. His russet brown eyes caught the glow of a nearby gaslamp as they locked with Astraea’s hazel ones. One of her hands came up to trace his jaw and he felt a shaky breath leave his mouth as his skin turned to hot ice wherever her touch lingered. He resisted the urge to take her finger into his mouth when it began to trace his lips and fought even harder not to pull her onto his lap when she got to his collarbone.

 

“Spencer,” she breathed out. He felt her breath warm and pleasant on her face. “Can I kiss you?”

 

He swallowed hard as his eyes drifted down to her lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

Kissing Astraea felt a lot like the first time Spencer ever tried weed. He’d eaten a pot brownie his roommate at MIT had offered him and swore for an hour and a half that he hadn’t felt anything. Then he stood up to walk to the bathroom and felt a soft jolt as if his body had been placed into an alternate dimension. He’d felt light, his body humming with what he could only describe as life itself. He was certain that feeling could never be replicated again. Yet here it was. 

 

He didn’t know what he thought kissing her would be like, but whatever expectations he had were surpassed. The kiss between them was soft and explorative and done far sooner than he would have liked it to be. She pulled away and placed her forehead against his. “That was...amazing.”

 

“Oh, thank God.” Spencer found himself replying breathlessly. “It’s been so long since I’ve done that.”

 

“I couldn’t even tell.”

 

Spencer pulled her in closer to him and he thought he might have ascended to another plane when he felt her arms snake around him. He didn’t want to move. He wanted the night to go on forever. But his phone rang and that was how he knew the universe didn’t like him as much as he wished it did. He cursed to himself and answered it when he saw Garcia’s name come up on the screen.

 

“Hate me later, my little genius, but we have a case. Hotch wants everyone here in an hour.” She did sound regretful as she spoke. It was a Sunday night and no doubt everyone was winding down for the evening. 

 

Spencer sighed and closed his eyes in slight irritation. “Alright, be there soon.” He hung up and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

 

“You have to go, huh?” Astraea asked, a speck of disappointment already clear in her eyes.

 

“Unfortunately, yes.” They both stood from the bench and he turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close to him. “I enjoyed this evening, you know.”

 

Astraea smiled at him. “We’ll have to do it again then. You know, it’ll be your turn to plan everything. A smart guy like you is bound to have infinite date ideas.”

 

He found himself laughing quietly. “You’ll just have to wait and see then, won’t you?”

 

Her warm brown eyes found his again and it felt like she was looking into his soul. His insides felt so pleasantly light and his mind felt more at ease than it had in months. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning forward to place a soft kiss on her lips. She kissed him back, deeper and hungry and absolutely searing. Her tongue reached out to caress his bottom lip and his mouth opened out of habit. God, she tasted heavenly. He found himself wondering just what they could do in the hour he had before he had to go to work. Then, he had to pull himself away. 

 

“If we keep going, I’ll be very late to work.” Spencer placed a kiss against her forehead and pulled her closer to him. “And I need my job to surprise you with all the infinite date ideas I have.”

 

Astraea sighed and pouted slightly before conceding, “Maybe you have a point. Okay, fine. Go to work before you end up back at my apartment.” She shoved him playfully away from her. He smiled back at her took her hand as long as he could before he had to leave. 

 

“Let me walk you home,” Spencer said. “It’s late and my line of work makes me very paranoid.” 

 

Astraea took his hand again. “I think I’d like that very much.”

  
  
  



	6. Only Mildly Terrifying

Spencer was absolutely certain he would never look at flowers the same way ever again. He frowned to himself as the pictures of the latest victims of a floral obsessed serial killer filled the screen.

 

“You guys will be going to Willow Springs, Indiana this week. It’s a small suburb of a suburb just outside Indianapolis that has been seeing some pretty troubling murders as you all can tell.” Garcia began as she stood in front of the screen. “Three women, different races and all middle aged, have been found in an abandoned greenhouse with literal flowers growing out of their body.”

 

The other team members scoffed in disgust and had the decency to look troubled. “How the hell is the unsub growing flowers out of the bodies of their victims?” Emily asked in confusion.

 

“The human body, as it decomposes in the ground, becomes very valuable in nutrients to soil and small creatures like worms. It’s possible this unsub was literally using human bodies as fertilizer for their flowers.” Spencer replied, taking no joy in the way the team members flinched as he spoke.

 

“So, we’re looking for someone obsessed enough with flowers to want to use a human body to plant them. Dragging bodies around, digging holes, and planting the flowers would require quite a bit of strength.” Rossi offered.

 

“These bodies weren’t meant to be discovered,” Emily stated. “The unsub hid them in an abandoned greenhouse. If it weren’t for a bunch of kids poking around, we might have ever known those women were there!”

 

They were all silent for a moment as they flipped through the files Garcia handed out to them. It was late, so a few of them were yawning. While Spencer agreed that the case was troubling, he wasn’t sure why they’d needed to come in immediately. There appeared to be a month in between every one of the unsub’s kills with the most recent having happened just three days before.

 

“So, we’re looking for someone who’s physically strong enough to not only carry bodies around but to mutilate them in order to grow flowers out of the body. It would also have to be someone with an intimate knowledge of flowers because none of these are types that you can pick up seeds for just anywhere.” Spencer observed, squinting at the flowers as he attempted to sort through his various memories to recall why they looked so familiar to him.

 

“Well, they look like regular flowers to me.” Morgan replied. Still, he looked curiously at Spencer, knowing he must be thinking something the rest of them weren’t. “What are you seeing, pretty boy?”

 

Spencer cocked his head to the side slightly, feeling the memories of medical journals and articles he’d read begin to solidify into something he could better recall. “These aren’t _just_ regular flowers, Morgan. The first victim has roses growing out of her chest but they’re Juliette roses, the most expensive rose in the world to ever be created. The second victim has what at first looks like run-of-the-mill orchids growing out of her stomach but those are actually ghost orchids. They’re only native in Florida, Cuba, and the Bahamas and can only be pollinated at night by sphinx moths.”

 

“God, this sounds like an episode of _Hannibal_.” Emily commented dryly, though her tone betrayed equal parts fascination and disgust.

 

“The third victim has Kadupul, or Queen of the Night, flowers growing out of her eye sockets. Those are only native in India, Sri Lanka, China, Japan, and a few Latin American countries but they bloom only at night and close up by morning. The only way to grow them is in decaying matter in tree roots.” He felt like he was rambling now but the information was important to him. He was beginning to form a better idea of who and what their unsub might be in his head.

 

Hotch frowned thoughtfully as he considered what Reid had said. “If the women are of differing races is it possible their race corresponds to where the flowers originated from or are native to?”

 

JJ nodded in understanding as she got up and walked closer to the screen. “Huh. So, maybe our unsub picked these victims because of their geographic relation to the flowers. And it’s probable the unsub is also a botanist. Spencer, what other type of profession would have this kind of knowledge about rare flowers?”

 

“Botanists, horticulturalists, and plant geneticists are our best bet, but I’m inclined to believe it would be a botanist because that profession overlaps with the other two depending on the work being done. If this unsub specifically picked victims with geographic relationships to the flowers, they might also be building custom growing environments around each victim. We need to get to that greenhouse.”

They arrived in the picturesque town of Willow Springs early the next morning. Spencer couldn’t help but appreciate how beautiful a day it was out. The sky was perfectly clear and blue and the temperature was crisp and pleasant. The town itself was small and he couldn’t tell from being there that it was so close to Indianapolis. There was only one main street and it was teeming with small businesses and cute little restaurants Spencer felt certain Astraea would have enjoyed if she were there. It looked like everyone knew each other in Willow Springs. People stopped and talked to one another, looking genuinely interested in what the other had to say.

 

“How much you wanna bet we’ll hear ‘This isn’t that kind of town’ at least ten times before the day’s out?” Emily asked wryly as she looked around with Spencer.

 

“Ten dollars if we hear it ten times before noon today.” JJ replied with a quiet laugh.

 

The three of them spent the day interviewing people around town and sampling the local restaurants and cafes. Eventually, Hotch summoned them back to the Willow Springs Police Department to inform them that results from the expedited soil test results had come back for the soil around the victims’ bodies.

 

“These are all totally different soil types,” JJ said as she quickly read through the results. “How would that even be possible?”

 

“Each area where the victims were was divided. Think _The OA_ with bigger spaces. Essentially, the unsub is attempting to recreate the growing environment for each of those rare flowers!” Spencer added.

 

Emily sighed as she sat back in her chair. “Then he’s just using the victims as fertilizer.”

 

Rossi grunted in agreement. “You know, the M.E. said she found traces of soil of different types in the victims’ bodies but here’s what I don’t get: what’d the unsub do with the organs? There weren’t any in the parts of the victims’ bodies where the flowers were planted.”

 

Spencer walked over to the board where most of their evidence was posted. He chewed his bottom lip as he considered Rossi’s question. His mind wandered to the vegan restaurant near his house as he remembered that he was hungry again and would need to eat something soon. And that was when it hit him.

 

“Compost,” he murmured quietly. “The unsub is using the organs for compost to help grow the flowers.”

 

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as everyone’s appetites forcefully dissipated. Just then, Spencer felt his phone buzzing away in his pocket. He pulled it out and smiled when he saw Astraea’s name on the screen.

 

“Uh...excuse me a minute, I need to take this.” He murmured. Then, much to the confusion of everyone else, he stepped out into the hallway, closing the door to the office behind him.

 

“A.D! Hi!” He answered, his voice quiet and cheery.

 

“Hey, you. How’s the case going?” Astraea asked. “Anything gross happening?”

 

Spencer laughed quietly. “Yes, actually. I’ll probably never look at flowers the same way ever again.”

 

“Do tell.”

 

“Trust me, A.D., you’re better off never knowing. What about you? How’s your day going?” He glanced back through the conference room window and was happy to note that the team was proceeding without him just fine.

 

He heard Astraea sigh deeply, as if all the energy from her body had evaporated. “Long, tiring, only mildly terrifying.”

 

“What happened?”

 

He heard Astraea sigh again on the other end of the phone. “I was walking to my car today when I was leaving the school and there was this weird guy sitting in a van staring at me. At first, I thought maybe he was just waiting for a kid to come out but...Spencer, he followed me after I left the school!”

 

“What?” Spencer felt dread and alarm fill him. “Where are you now, Astraea?”

 

“I took, like, five different detours around the city to shake him and it took me two hours to finally get home. I think I got rid of him after the first hour.” She replied.

 

“Are you ok? Is there anything I can do to help?” Spencer asked as he began pacing in front of the windows to the conference room. The team had taken notice and were now looking up at him with concern.

 

Astraea sniffled slightly to herself and it dawned on Spencer then that she was crying. “I don’t know. Maybe? I memorized his license plate just to be safe. Wrote down all the car info too. I guess I just wanted to tell you about it in case something happens. Then someone else would know too.”

 

“Send it to me.”

 

“What?” Astraea asked in confusion.

 

“Send it to me, A.D. I’ll have one of my friends here look up his info and see if he has a record of any kind. In the meantime, did you call the police?” Now, Spencer felt his fingers twitching in anxiousness. He and Astraea hadn’t known each other long but hearing that she felt afraid that someone was following her made his chest feel tight.

 

“Yeah, but it was pointless. They said there was nothing they could do unless he actually tried to do something to me. They took down his information but I doubt they’ll even do anything with it.” Her voice cracked and he heard her sniffling again.

 

The door to the conference room opened and Hotch poked his head out of the door. “Everything ok, Reid?”

 

Spencer waved his hand absently at the man, only causing further confusion to Hotch, and walked a distance away from the conference room. “Listen, Astraea, I should be back by the end of the week. I’ll look up the man with the information you gave me. If anything else happens, if you ever feel you’re in danger, I want you to call me, ok?”

 

“I will. Thank you, Spencer. Really. I didn’t even know who else to call.”

 

They talked for ten more minutes as Spencer attempted to distract Astraea by asking about her students and what she was planning on cooking for dinner. Eventually, she informed him that she was unspeakably tired from the day she’d had and just wanted to go to sleep. They said their goodbyes with Spencer promising to check on her every day until he got back.

 

He texted Garcia the information Astraea had just related to him, even promising to buy her Comic Con ticket this year if she searched as thoroughly as she could and kept it quiet from the rest of the team.

 

Then, he went back into the conference room, trying his hardest to not pay attention to the concerned stares his colleagues were giving him. He tried, really he did, not to let the feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach make its grand debut on his face.

 


	7. The Picture of Gavin Pollard

“Got a hit on that van you wanted me to look up.” 

 

Spencer blinked as he pulled himself out of his thoughts, noticing Garcia standing in the doorway. They had just gotten back from Willow Springs an hour ago. He’d been gone longer than he would have liked. It turned out that the unsub had been an ex-botanist who’d lost the local county-wide flower competition. The victims had been her competitors and the team had arrested the man in the middle of his award ceremony. Spencer, Garcia, and Emily took it upon themselves to notify the respective governments the flowers originated from and were able to get them safely transported back to their countries to be grown in controlled environments. All told, Spencer had been away from home for almost three weeks. 

 

“What’d you find out?” Spencer asked. He stood up from the table in the break room expectantly, his fingers fidgeting against the coffee mug in his hand.  

 

Garcia handed him the manila folder in her hand with a frown. “It’s registered to a Gavin Pollard from Silver Springs, Maryland. He’s fifty-six years old and has had a record since he was ten.” 

 

Spencer looked up at her in concern and then proceeded to flip through the folder. There were various arrests for attempted sexual assaults and kidnappings, stalkings, and petty theft. Gavin Pollard had also apparently been a person of interest in the disappearance of a young woman named Chelsea Thomas. Spencer felt dread pool in his stomach as he realized that Chelsea looked extremely similar to Astraea. They were the same age, or Chelsea would be if she were still alive, with similar complexions and the same eye color. Chelsea, however, had short hair when she was taken and Astraea’s was big and curly. But Spencer absolutely refused to believe it was a coincidence that the suspect in the disappearance of a woman who looked a lot like Astraea had followed her after spotting her in the school parking lot.

 

“Thanks, Garcia, I appreciate it.” Spencer said eventually. 

 

Garcia arched an eyebrow at him curiously. “You wanna tell me what this is about, Wonder Boy?”

 

He didn’t. Not really. But if this  _ was _ the person who’d been stalking Astraea then he would have to tell the whole team. Closing in his eyes in resignation, he decided he would need to FaceTime her and show her the picture of Gavin Pollard. 

 

“Would you mind getting Hotch for me?” 

 

“I know you’re trying to delay the inevitable by avoiding  _ but _ I’ll let it slide this time because I love you.” Garcia ruffled his hair and he playfully slapped her hand away. 

 

When Garcia left, Spencer closed the door behind her and quickly FaceTimed Astraea. It was late, almost midnight, but if their phone calls over the past few days were any indication, she was probably asleep. Still, she answered on the fifth ring just when Spencer was about to give up.

 

“Baby, you better have a reason for interrupting my sleep this late.” Astraea answered groggily. “Is something on fire?”

 

Spencer laughed quietly and felt his face warm. He knew her hair was braided under the silk scarf she wore every night. Seeing the sleep still in her eyes made his heart feel warm. “No, not quite. How are you, A.D.?” 

 

She fixed him with a deadpan expression and a raised eyebrow. “You called me at 11:37pm on a Monday night to ask me how I’m doing?”

 

He smiled in response, though it quickly went away when he remembered why he’d called her in the first place. “A.D...Astraea, it’s about the van that was following you a few weeks ago. Garcia found the man it’s registered to. Before I move forward, I need you to look at the picture and tell me if it was him that followed you.”

 

Spencer took no joy in seeing the fear suddenly cloud Astraea’s eyes. She sat up quickly and shrugged. “Okay, I can try.”

 

The room was quiet as Spencer zoomed in on the photo as best as he could. Gavin Pollard was an ordinary looking middle-aged man. He dressed and looked generally unremarkable. Greying hair streaked with remnants of dishwater blonde was carefully combed over in the DMV photo Garcia had put in the file. He was a large and imposing man but dressed modestly so as not to draw attention to himself. His eyes were a muted gray and didn’t appear to have any real emotion in them. Spencer could understand why Astraea might have assumed him to be a parent when she’d first noticed him in the parking lot at her school. 

 

“Is this him?” Spencer asked softly. 

 

He watched as her eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock. “Holy shit, that’s him! That’s definitely him!” 

 

Spencer felt like his stomach had fallen through the floor. He had been hoping that this man, this probable killer, wasn’t the one who’d followed Astraea. But she’d confirmed it was him. And if he’d followed her then that meant he was stalking her, waiting for the right moment to make his move and take Astraea. 

 

“Has anything else happened since what you told me about?”

 

Again, Astraea shrugged. “I don’t think so. I got a blank envelope in the mail last week but I just assumed that was a mistake. Do you think that was him?” Her voice had taken on a somewhat fearful tone. 

 

“That is a strong possibility. A.D., I’m on my way now to come and get you. Pack enough clothes for a few days and make sure all your windows and doors are locked until I get there, ok? I’m coming.” Spencer instructed her firmly. He was careful not to let his own fear sneak into his voice. It was his job to deal with cases like this. He knew what the outcomes usually were. But the thought of anything happening to Astraea made his skin tingle uncomfortable. 

 

Hotch came into the break room just then. “Garcia said you needed me for something. What is it?”

 

Spencer breezed past him and into the hallway. “Someone I know is in trouble and I might need your help. I’ll explain on the way.” A few minutes later, they were speeding through the city to get to Astraea’s place and Spencer hoped with all his heart that tonight was not the night Gavin Pollard chose to do anything to her.


	8. Understatement of the Year

Spencer was certain he had never felt relief like what he felt when Astraea answered her door. She was wearing a black sundress with straps that wrapped around her neck, a royal blue headscarf flecked with silver, and huge silver earrings. A medium sized suitcase and a duffle bag were next to her feet. Relief bloomed in her eyes when she saw Spencer.

 

“Are you ready?” Spencer asked.

 

Astraea nodded silently as the relief went away and was replaced by fear. “I brought that blank envelope too. Figured maybe you guys can, like, test it or something?” She looked nervously over at Hotch who, like always, wore a hawk-eyed expression. It was difficult to tell what he thought about the woman before him.

 

Spencer glanced at him curiously and then back at Astraea. “That’s a good start. We should probably get moving. If he is staking out somewhere nearby there’s a good chance he already knows we’re here.”

 

Astraea nodded again and picked up her bags before locking her apartment up. The walk back to the SUV was a quiet one. Astraea elected to sit in the back. Hotch said something about picking JJ up from her house on the way back to the BAU so Spencer decided to keep Astraea company. At some point during their car ride, Astraea’s hand found its way into Spencer’s. He looked up and saw her staring intently out of the window. She kept swallowing hard and her breath had gotten a little shallow. She was trying not to cry. He squeezed her hand encouragingly and she gave him a grateful smile. When JJ got in the car, she gave Spencer a questioning look and he shook his head before texting her that he would explain everything later when everyone was back at headquarters. 

 

The team was assembled in the conference room as always, looking ragged from not having a break between cases. Astraea and Spencer came into the room and she went to sit off to the side by the window. They were all looking at them questioningly. 

 

“I know you’re all tired, so I want to thank you guys for staying,” Spencer prefaced. “I also know you guys are wondering who I brought with me and why she’s here. This is A.D. King. She’s a friend of mine.”

 

Astraea fixed him with a look. “Might be a bit more than though, right?” A small smile appeared on her face when his team members looked at him in stunned expectance. 

 

Spencer’s face warmed and he looked down, knowing his face was probably beet red by now. “Anyway, A.D. was followed home from work a few weeks ago by a man named Gavin Pollard. He followed her for an hour and might now be stalking her. This means he might also know where she lives.”

 

“Who is this guy? How do you know it was him following her?” Morgan asked curiously.

 

“A.D. memorized the license plate and make and model of the car and sent that to me. Garcia looked it up and found out Gavin Pollard was the owner. He has a record a mile long of attempted sexual assaults and kidnappings, stalkings, and theft. He’s also a person of interest in the disappearance of a woman from Alexandria named Chelsea Thomas. She hasn’t been found but enough time has passed and if Pollard’s interest is in A.D. now it’s probable that Chelsea is no longer alive.” Spencer explained quickly.

 

He heard Astraea’s sharp intake of breath as she processed everything that Spencer said. The man who had been following her and who was most likely stalking her was probably a murderer. Spencer felt his mouth dry as if there was sand in it.

 

Hotch came to stand next to Spencer, his beady eyes cutting across the room. “Garcia pulled missing persons cases in Alexandria and surrounding areas to compare them to Chelsea’s. If Pollard did indeed kill her I doubt it was his first time. Over this next week, we will be looking into those missing persons cases in addition to our normal caseload. During that time, Astraea will be staying with Reid until we know for certain Pollard is targeting her.” 

 

There was a small ripple of discomfort at a bigger caseload being on the horizon for the team, but if Spencer cared about Astraea then they would too. Hotch quickly dismissed them all, telling them to come back bright and early at 10 am the following day. It was now half past 1 am and they were all raggedly tired. 

 

Spencer waited patiently as Astraea introduced herself to everyone on the team. When that was done, the two of them took the elevator down to the parking garage where an SUV authorized for use by Hotch was waiting for them. Spencer was certain to take the long way home, switching up his route on the off chance Pollard was following them.

 

They got to his apartment on the north end of the city and a wave of exhaustion seemed to hit them both at once. He directed Astraea to his room and stepped into the kitchen to make them both some chamomile tea while she showered and changed into her night clothes. 

 

“This should help,” Spencer said when he came back to the room. “I know the last few hours have been overwhelming for you.”

 

“Understatement of the year honestly.”

 

Astraea was sitting on Spencer’s bed wearing a Howard t-shirt that was way too big for her and what appeared to he gym shorts. She had removed her headscarf and put her hair into two braids that touched her shoulder. Spencer handed her the mug of tea and she took it gratefully.

 

“The tea is chamomile. It’ll help you relax before you go to sleep. If you need anything I’ll be in the living room tonight.” Spencer took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly. 

 

Astraea didn’t let go when he tried to get up. She looked at him pleadingly before draining her tea the way someone might down a shot. “I know this might be a little soon but...do you think you could stay with me tonight?”

 

“Of course. Whatever you need.” Spencer’s reply was immediate, so immediate that it almost terrified him. But it was true. He cared for Astraea a lot. They’d grown a lot closer over the past few weeks and the threat of Pollard made it feel deeper. “I’ll go shower and we can get to bed after.”

 

He got through his shower fairly quickly and by the time he got out Astraea was under the blankets with her back to him. It was lucky that his dresser was on her side of the bed. He changed into an old Lord of the Rings shirt and some pajama pants before coming around to climb into the bed.

 

Astraea’s eyes opened gently as she felt him get settled into the bed. They were facing each other and close enough for Spencer’s heart to start racing criminally fast. 

 

“You think this guy is really stalking me?”

 

Spencer shrugged. “We don’t know that with certainty but I feel certain he is. The only way we’ll know with any certainty is if he escalates out of anger.”

 

“What will he do then?” Astraea asked. 

 

He’d been in his line of work for years now. He knew the answer to that question and he suspected Astraea did too. But he didn’t have the courage to say it out loud so he didn’t.

 

“I promise that we will do everything possible to keep you safe.” He said instead. “He will  _ never _ get to you.”

 

Astraea nodded silently and moved to bury her face in Spencer’s chest. He was surprised at first but he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and praying to every deity he knew of that he could keep his promise to her.


End file.
